


A Chance Encounter

by Mari_Writes



Series: BokuAka Week 2020 [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, BokuAka Week, BokuAka Week 2020, Fluff, Humor, Japanese, Language, Libraries, M/M, Meet-Cute, San Francisco, San Francisco Bay Area, They are both originally from Tokyo, akaashi is smitten, study abroad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:08:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25657159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mari_Writes/pseuds/Mari_Writes
Summary: BokuAka Week 2020 Week, Day 2 (College) and Day 6 (Alternate First Meeting).Akaashi Keiji is an international student, living on the other side of the world from Tokyo, when he first meets Bokuto Koutarou. He thinks it might be fate—or something pretty close.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Series: BokuAka Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1858279
Comments: 10
Kudos: 132
Collections: Bokuaka Week 2020





	A Chance Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Here is my second installment for Bokuaka Week. I had fun writing about San Francisco, the big city I’m closest to and often visit (well, before the pandemic). 
> 
> If you enjoyed this story PLEASE COMMENT, and share on [ Tumblr ](https://mari-writes.tumblr.com/post/625288422752452608/a-chance-encounter) and [ Twitter ](https://twitter.com/mari_writes1/status/1289691584301170689)! Thanks!

Akaashi tightened his scarf, head pointed downward against the wind as he made his way to the library.

San Francisco shouldn’t be this cold. First of all, it was in _California_. When Akaashi had signed up to study abroad, he had chosen what he _thought_ was the warmest place from the list. After all, the closest place where it snowed regularly was almost five hours away from here!

But there was something about this type of cold—a wetness that seemed to seep through his layers of clothing—that was acutely different than what he was used to. Maybe he should have chosen that school in Connecticut instead…

“No mom, I told you! We’re _sixteen_ hours difference, not six! And you say _I’m_ the forgetful one!”

_Wait… was that Japanese?_

Surprised, Akaashi looked up to see a young man on the steps of the library. He was holding his phone close to his ear with an exasperated expression on his face. He was tall—even taller than Akaashi, which was surprising—with dyed hair that was sculpted into spikes.

He was also wearing only jeans and a t-shirt, which made Akaashi shiver.

“That’s okay, mom. Yeah, I know… of course I’m staying safe! No, Disneyland is pretty far from here, like an entire day’s drive…”

It was definitely Japanese. And a dialect spoken mainly by people in Tokyo. He could discern the difference between it and the type common in the Bay Area.

The guy kept chattering away, gesticulating madly. Akaashi couldn’t help but notice he was very muscular. His arms, promptly displayed in his tight shirt, were especially impressive. Akaashi’s eyes lingered.

Suddenly the young man’s eye’s snapped to his. Akaashi realized too late that he had stopped walking and was just standing there, staring.

_Oh, no._

Hurriedly, Akaashi bowed and continued up the stairs and slipped into the library. A blast of warm air greeted him, though Akaashi’s face was already feeling a bit heated from embarrassment.

He attempted to calm himself down, looking around for a place to study. He spotted a free table, with only a few loose papers stacked on one end. He made his way over and began to set up.

“Hey!”

Starting, Akaashi nearly knocked over the thermos of tea he had just unpacked. He looked up to see that the guy from outside had followed him and was now grabbing onto the back of the chair across from him, smiling.

 _Oh no,_ Akaashi thought again.

“Are you from Japan?” The guy asked, quietly but with enthusiasm. “Did you hear me talking? People here speak different! I don’t know English very well but even their Japanese isn’t as easy to understand. And you bowed! I guess some people do that here too. But not as many. My name’s Bokuto… what’s yours?”

Akaashi’s tongue seemed to be glued to the roof of his mouth. He wanted to reply, but couldn’t seem to form a simple sentence. He could feel his jaw falling open involuntarily.

After a few moments of silence, Bokuto hissed apologetically. “Oh! Umm…” He switched to a stuttered, broken English. “I am sorry. I thought you…”

“I am,” Akaashi finally replied. “Japanese. I’m from Tokyo.”

Confusion and then elation traveled over Bokuto’s face. “Me too! This is so cool!” He excitedly shook the chair, causing it to hit the underside of the table. A passing librarian shot him a glare.

“Oops,” Bokuto grinned sheepishly. Akaashi’s mouth twitched.

“My name is Akaashi,” he said. “It’s nice to meet you.” He found himself quite overwhelmed by Bokuto’s presence. Swallowing, he reached down to organize his work. “Are you… studying here as well?”

Bokuto nodded, pulling back the chair and plopping down across from him. “I’m on a sports scholarship! Volleyball! I really want to go professional. I hope I can!”

Akaashi’s eyes widened, surprised at the odds. “I used to play volleyball,” he said.

If possible, Bokuto’s expression grew even brighter.

They talked for a while, Akaashi occasionally having to remind Bokuto to lower his voice. Akaashi told him about his hopes of becoming a writer. Bokuto told him about his recent trip to the Academy of Sciences— apparently he had “formed a connection” with Claude the albino alligator.

At one point, Akaashi turned over his bag to retrieve a stick of gum, and his companion’s rambling came to a grinding halt.

Akaashi realized that Bokuto was staring at the rainbow flag adorning the front pocket. Tension built in his shoulders. Did Bokuto have a problem with it?

“I like your patch,” Bokuto said softly.

The tension melted away. “Thank you,” Akaashi replied. “I got it at Pride last year.”

Bokuto smiled. “Cool! Wait, last year? How long…”

“I’m here on a two-year program,” Akaashi said, and Bokuto gaped.

“Two years? Wow! I couldn’t imagine being away from home for that long. I’ve only been here for a couple months and I already miss it! Though I guess I should get used to being away, if I go pro…”

The afternoon went on in a similar fashion. Bokuto took a minute to gather his things from another table and bring them over. They half-studied, half-talked. They exchanged numbers and made plans for a weekend jog in Golden Gate Park.

Bokuto also asked, slightly red in the ears, if he could tag along with Akaashi and his friends to Pride this year. Akaashi nodded shyly.

That evening, as Akaashi trudged back home through the damp streets, he pondered the serendipity of meeting Bokuto. It would have been a lot more plausible for them to have met back home. At school. At a volleyball game. At a random Tokyo bar.

Instead, they had crossed paths in a foreign city—one sixteen hours away, surrounded by water and swathed in fog.

Akaashi decided he didn’t mind the chill of San Francisco anymore. In fact, he had a feeling that it would always hold a special place in his heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: I have visited [Claude the albino alligator](https://www.calacademy.org/exhibits/the-swamp) a few times in my life. He is a majestic king.  
> [ Tumblr ](https://mari-writes.tumblr.com/post/625288422752452608/a-chance-encounter)  
> [ Twitter ](https://twitter.com/mari_writes1/status/1289691584301170689)


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